


Unwanted

by stopitanxiety



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adopted, Orphanage, logan is baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopitanxiety/pseuds/stopitanxiety
Summary: Nobody wanted the boy in the black hoodie.





	Unwanted

_No one wanted the boy in the black hoodie._

He’d shown up one night in the rain, a backpack slung over his shoulder and a book in his hand. Not having much of a choice, the orphanage director took the boy in. They gave him new clothes, new shoes, new toys. They provided a bed and three meals a day. They gave the boy a home.

When it came time for Adoption Day, they gave all the children nice clothes to wear. The matron fussed over their hair, their shoes, their buttons. She scolded the boy for refusing to take off his hoodie, claiming “no one wants a child that hides.”

The boy wore the hoodie anyway.

After lunch the orphans were sent outside, where their potential families were waiting.

One by one, children were selected for their beauty, their intellect, their personality.

_But no one wanted the boy in the black hoodie._

“Maybe next month, honey,” the matron pat the small boy’s head. “Maybe next month.”

For six years, he waited to be chosen. For six years, he waited to be _loved_. For six years, the boy in the black hoodie was left behind. Hopeless, he gave up on making friends (they never stayed long enough), he gave up on reading books (the orphanage’s library was too small), he gave up on himself (no one would ever want someone like him).

“Maybe next time, honey.”

On the Tuesday of the second week of December, seven years after he arrived, the boy in the black hoodie dressed himself up. He buttoned the maroon polo shirt carefully, and pulled on the khaki pants he’d ironed out that same morning. He laced up his sneakers, and combed his hair. And for the final touch, he slipped into his hoodie.

“Sweetheart, are you ready?”

“Yes, Ms. Parker.”

“Are you wearing that jacket again?”

“Yes, Ms. Parker.”

“You know how I feel about that, honey.”

“I _know_, Ms. Parker.”

The boy trudged to the play yard, wincing when the gate creaked as it swung open. He adjusted his grip on the book he’d brought with him.

“Go on now, baby. Go on.”

Ms. Parker shooed him away. Sighing, he made his way to his usual place— the oak tree with low hanging branches. He hoisted himself up onto a branch, squirming a bit until he was comfortable enough to begin his novel. In a matter of minutes the world around the boy faded away, as he became absorbed in the story.

_One by one, children were selected for their beauty, their intellect, their personality._

The boy turned a page, oblivious to those around him.

“Excuse me, kiddo. Can we talk to you?”

The boy in the black hoodie almost fell out of his tree at the voice, but managed to hide his shock behind his hands. The boy peeked out at the man standing beneath his branch. He had curly hair, round glasses, a soft looking blue sweater, and a friendly smile on his face. To his left, another man wearing a tracksuit and sneakers was smiling up at him as well, his reddish brown hair falling into his eyes.

“I guess so.”

“Whatcha reading?”

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.”

“Oh we _love_ Harry Potter! Is that your favorite book?”

The boy smiled. These people were nice.

“Yeah.”

The three of them talked for almost thirty minutes, until the two men bid the child farewell and went off to talk to a blonde haired little girl. The dinner bell rang, and the boy in the black hoodie jumped down from the tree. He started to walk back into the orphanage, fighting back tears. He’d been sure those two men were the ones to finally choose him, but it seemed he was going to alone again. The boy reached up to open the creaky gate.

“Hey, wait!”

A hand fell on the boy’s shoulder, and he turned to see the red haired man from earlier smiling down at him.

“I have to go to dinner, sir.”

“We’ll handle that, sweetheart.”

The boy frowned in confusion. The man wearing the blue sweater walked up with papers in his hand.

“We want to adopt you, kiddo.”

“What?”

“We want to adopt you.”

It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, but when they did, the child began to cry. With a sob, he launched himself into the arms of the closest man, who laughed loudly and spun the two of them around.

“Thank you thank you _thank you!”_

“Let’s go home, okay? Your suitcase is already in the car.”

The boy nodded, tears still falling down his cheeks.

“What-what do I call you?”

The curly haired man smiled.

“I’m Patton. This is Roman. You can call us whatever you’d like.”

“I’m gonna call you Dad and Papa.”

Roman lifted the boy onto his shoulders, making the child giggle.

“C’mon, little man! Pat made lasagna for dinner!”

The three of them made their way to the car, and Patton helped buckle in their newest family member. Roman drove them home, singing Disney songs at the top of his lungs while the boy in the back seat laughed. When the car pulled into the driveway Roman turned the music off, and got out of the car to carry the boy’s belongings into the house. Patton held the boy’s hand to help him step out of the car, before pulling him into a tight hug and whispering to him.

_“Welcome home, Logan.”_


End file.
